Robotics
by Voidbarker
Summary: Wheatley can't even figure out why She would want to bring him back, much less put him in testing. ( Android characters. )
1. Generic Starting Chapter

He'd been floating around in space for a while.

More specifically, a few years.

Wheatley just sighed, trying to tune in to the Space Core's broadcasted yelling about space. The little guy was bloody obsessed with it. A hyperfixation, if you will. Space Core had been wanting to go to space since his conception. _(Although, Wheatley could swear that he heard something about wanting to go home from the core that wanted to go to space in the first place, but whether or not he was hallucinating it, he couldn't tell.)_

However, he was surprised to find radio silence from his spacebound companion. He hesitantly drifted his gaze to see if the Space Core had shut down.

And that was indeed the case.

There had been no warnings about the corrupted sphere being on low battery, none at all. Wheatley couldn't help but cringe a little, mostly because that meant he was well and truly alone. Even if he'd tuned out a lot of the other core's babbling about space, he considered them a friendly face.

Within his viewport, he hadn't noticed the LOWBAT signal. Unsurprisingly, it meant that he was on low battery, and should probably charge. However, during the core transfer, he had his backup power systems taken out, as they were deemed unnecessary. _(A lot of other things were deemed unnecessary, like his flashlight.)_

Finally noticing it, Wheatley winced again.

He had about a day or so's worth of charge left, before he'd be shut off for good, presumably. Unless She wanted anything to do with him, which he strongly doubted that She'd bother.

A moment of thinking brought him to the conclusion that if his batteries were going to die, then he might as well spend the next day or so in sleep mode. He already felt tired. What would it matter to anyone if he spent the last day he had of existing in sleep mode?

"G'dnight."

[ SHUTTING DOWN. ]


	2. First Contact

The transfer was a success.

If she could smile, she'd have done so by now. Instead, she opted to raise her lower eyeplate.

The android in front of her laid in a dreamless slumber. He'd wake up soon enough. A shorter model, he'd be useful for climbing into vents.

A notification popped up in her mind, telling her of the ID Sphere's power running out. He'd gone into sleep mode, expecting her to not interfere with his natural death.

While she thought that space would be an adequate enough revenge, this just made it all the more pathetic. GLaDOS blinked, simply lowering her head and turning to the side, before calling up the manufacturing line and asking for another android body.

Specifications? Five feet tall, and with a little bit more weight than most.

Maybe she'd put him through tests, or chuck him in the incinerator. Either way, she'd probably enjoy seeing his idiot brain fry as he tried to solve a single test.

* * *

The Aperture Science Personality Androids, or, as they called themselves, Androids, required food and sleep for a full charge, if no charging port is available. With that in mind, she set up a call to Virgil, asking him if getting the so-called 'Intelligence' Sphere out of the incinerator, making it an android body, and giving it the job of cooking for a guest would be suitable.

The answer was a simple: "Yes, but why are you asking?"

"...It'll be a surprise. Given that Intelligence Sphere has a lot of awful ideas on what goes in a cake."

Virgil sighed, and she could hear something slotting into place over the line.

"Well, as long as it doesn't try to poison all of us?"

"I thought so. Then again, by all of us, you're probably referring to you and the other personality constructs."

"Yes, miss."

"Hm."

"What are you thinking about?"

"...I'd say making cake, but that tends to get boring after a while. Maybe I could make donuts."

"Those sound good."

"You know the human saying 'practice makes perfect'? Well, it'll give me something to do other than testing."

* * *

AUTHOR: I am ever-so-slightly done with this chapter, simply because I'm super unsure about the characterization of both Virgil and GLaDOS. GLaDOS is endlessly bored and tries to find something else to do, other than testing, Virgil just fixes up Rick in the meantime and performs checkups.

The donuts are in reference to Hoopy the Hoop. Hehehe.


	3. Cloud Nine

The Space Core opened his eyes about an hour ago.

Wait, eyes? That's rather strange.

(A ping was sent to the Central Core to remind Her that the android was online, but he didn't notice.)

As far as he knew, Cores only had one optic to look around with. He, however, now had two.

The Space Core was affectionately known as Dipper by a couple of the other cores around the facility. With a white casing and a yellow, starburst optic, Space Core's job was...

He didn't remember.

How long had it been since he last had something to call a job? Something that actually made him worth something? He remembered getting corrupted due to external circumstances, but he didn't feel corrupted anymore. He could think with a bit of clarity. Now that he thought about it, this, in and of itself, was odd. He was used to his thoughts being jumbled and constantly spouted out with a motor mouth to rival Wheatley's.

The tiny bot attempted to get up, managing to at least get himself standing.

* * *

Dipper remembered wanting to go home at some point. Where, exactly, was home?

He didn't remember it being stark-white halls and abandoned observer rooms.

He remembered the scientists that usually milled about. There was one called Adrian, and he usually seemed a bit down. When Dipper asked, he wouldn't get a straight answer. More towards something about external circumstances resulting in Adrian being depressed, but he said he'd manage.

There was a part where that scientist stopped coming into work. Dipper ignored that file, and moved on to another.

* * *

/AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, so this chapter was originally going to be a helluva lot longer, but considering it's more or less from the POV of a secondary character, I couldn't find many ways to make it more interesting than it currently is. I have a couple of chapters on the backburner in Google Docs, they're somewhat due for a rewrite.

/So, uh, I should be able to update a few times this week.

/Keep in mind that I'm also working on a Wheatley ukagaka from this universe. So, stay tuned for updates on that. The most recent update is 1.4.2, which is more or less a small content update.


	4. The Task at Hand

Wheatley felt surprisingly happy, for once. For once in his life, he wasn't being useless, he wasn't being told he was useless, and he wasn't running his metaphorical mouth and (slightly more literal) his vocal processor into trouble. Or, as we know it, more than six feet under.

At least, until he felt himself falling.

With a quick jolt, he'd managed to fall off the bed he was sleeping on, landing face down on the floor and pushing himself up with his hands.

Now, hang on a moment. It's already been established that he didn't have hands as a spherical robot. None of the cores had hands or hand-like attachments. None that he knew, anyways. Who knows, there might be one or two that have that sort of thing, as well as the knowledge of how to use the limb programmed into them.

In shock, he let his body drop down onto the floor again, before rolling over and raising his hands so he could get a better look at them.

Thankfully, his vision wasn't blurry in the slightest.

His hands looked white, with small fingers. Each one of them had a couple of joints, which seamlessly integrated with the panelling on them.

In the middle of his palm, there was a light. He didn't really know what it was for, but it looked like some sort of aesthetic addition, rather than having anything to do with actually doing something.

The light looked like the shade of his old optic, and he briefly wondered how he'd even managed to be transferred to this body, not even coming to a conclusion before his thoughts started getting tangled with each other.

Wheatley just sighed, using one of his hands to rub at his eyes, letting the other fall to his chest, before realizing that he now had two eyes, but apparently he'd been keeping one of them closed. What the hell was the use of keeping one of them closed? He'd prefer being able to see without one side of his vision being blocked off, thank you very much.

It took him a few minutes to open that eye and adjust to the lighting, briefly shielding said optic with a hand.

Apparently the aesthetic lights could turn off, too. He'd noted that he'd figured that out surprisingly quickly, before dismissing the thought with a shrug.

Maybe he had better processing power in this body. It wouldn't surprise him too much, considering the amount of things Aperture could do. Portal guns, that white gel that spread portal surfaces, that blue bouncy gel that caused… uh, the lady to jump a good few meters in the air...

There was also that orange stuff. He forgot what that did at some point. It could always come back to him later. Instead, Wheatley focused his efforts on thinking about what to do with his new body.

He could try and sit up and see if he couldn't find a way out of here.

A way out of here would be brilliant. Wheatley pushed himself up into a sitting position, noticing that he now had legs.

With legs, there came running and walking, and no management rail to tell him where to go! He could finally explore the places where Cores couldn't go without some smelly human to take them!

An elated grin came upon the android's face as he came to the conclusion that he could theoretically go wherever he wanted!

It took him a moment to find that he was completely alone in the area. So, chances were that he wouldn't be receiving any help in learning how to walk. He figured that he might as well start trying to learn now, and pushed himself up into a crouched position.

Wheatley proceeded to stand up, using the bed as some form of help. He was halfway to walking! By technicality.

Taking a shaky step forward, he felt a bubble of laughter in his chest that he couldn't keep down.

Nearly there… just another step.

That's the part where he falls on his face, right? No?

Well, surprisingly, he hasn't! However, on his third step, he manages to achieve just that.

Now, falling on your face is definitely a painful endeavour. It usually results in mild grazing or a bruised nose. The grazing usually happens when you're on concrete, which has a very weird texture.

Thankfully, however, Wheatley was not on concrete at the time this happened. He was on a tiled floor, with a blanket tangled around his legs, which might have been what caused him to trip in the first place.

Nevertheless, Wheatley gets up again, this time kicking the blanket off and giving a huff.

The most recent failure honestly made him just want to go back to sleep in that bed, but he really doubted he'd be able to get back to sleep, considering how he's just woken up, and how he's currently trying to learn how to walk. Additionally, the blanket is partially off the bed, and without the knowledge of how to walk, it's definitely going to be a tough time getting it back onto the bed, where it would usually be if he hadn't fallen off the bed.

Hell, he probably would have been able to sleep for a bit longer if he hadn't fallen off the bed, but here he is. At least he's trying to learn how to walk, even if it's just so that he can re-make the bed and go back to sleep.

He began to walk around the room at a slow pace. Though, arguably speaking, it's more like a baby penguin shuffling about. Do baby penguins shuffle about, or do they waddle? That's a question for another day.

He made it back to the bed, and he attempted to drag the blanket back over it, before he just gave up and crawled onto the mattress. Wheatley proceeded to lay down, resting his head on the pillow and dragging the blanket over himself.

Unsurprisingly, the blanket is no longer on the floor, and is instead mostly on the bed, aside from a bit that's draping off. He could probably straighten it out a bit later, right now, he'd rather get a nap in before something inevitably goes wrong.

At least, until he hears a voice from an intercom inside the room.

"Wake up, moron."

* * *

AUTHOR: Wow. Okay, so I managed to write at least a thousand words, which is a lot more than I generally write. Maybe one day I'll reach 10k+ words in a chapter.

Anyways, two updates in a day? Well, yes, I figured that it would make for the lack of content updates, because I was busy updating my ukagaka at the time and improving my artwork to the point where I'd willingly sell it for money.

It's been noted that I write like Lemony Snicket. I don't know how that style came up in my writing, but stating the obvious in hilarious ways is definitely an okay thing. Also, I can't do the double slash, which is the formatting for a comment in the C programming language, because, for some stupid reason, FFNET doesn't allow that. I don't know why they don't allow that. Maybe it's to stop people putting links. Seriously, though, I would like to use double slashes for comments instead of this line break with a line and a note saying AUTHOR: ..., because, boy howdy, that would be fuckin' lovely.

Anyways, Stabbsworth, out!

* * *

WORD COUNT: 1,098


	5. Grace Period

With Orange and Blue's latest disagreement over a companion cube, GLaDOS had turned her attention to other things instead of trivial matters. Until the co-operative testing robots could sort it out between themselves, she would do something else.

The behaviour wasn't encouraged, and yet, it seemed to keep popping up.

With a sigh, she turned to her security feeds to see how the newly-made androids were doing.

The Space Core had successfully drawn a star, the Fact Core was reading a book, and the Adventure Core had lost his hat again.

Again, trivial things that she didn't need to worry about. They were all doing fine, each one had passed the calibration course.

The only one she was interested in was the Intelligence Dampening Sphere.

This one had managed to fall out of bed, walk two steps, fall onto his face, pick himself up again, and get back onto the bed, all without uttering a single word.

This was odd. The Intelligence Dampening Sphere was particularly notorious, even amongst the more talkative cores, for literally never being able to shut up.

Perhaps it would do them both some good if she cut to the chase.

She activated the intercom for his room, and spoke into the mic.

"Wake up, moron."

She watched as the idiot jolted out of the sleep schedule, instead staring at the camera in the room and shivering a bit, before rolling onto his back and answering.

"'m up, 'm up."

"Good. You have been given a 72-hour grace period. Do whatever it is you do when you're not destroying the facility and trying to initiate core transfers."

She saw him glare for a moment, before rolling onto his other side.

"Food and beverages will be provided. Sleep is also required for your system."

He visibly recoiled, now sitting up and staring at the camera.

"What- so you're telling me that I now have to eat and sleep?"

"Given that your model does not have a charger, I'd think that would have been obvious to you from the moment you awakened."

The former core gave a huff, simply laying back on the bed and settling in the blanket.

"You are taking this surprisingly well." She quipped, her upper eyelid raising from its bored position.

"I learned how to walk, so that's something. Never had to do that with the ol' sphere thing. You know, they could have added treads and stuff to that, it'd help with mobility."

"By the way, I forgot to mention that participation within testing is also required, unless you want food and sleep to be withheld."

"Of course it's bloody mandatory. Don't see why you only have to test the portal gun, though…"

Her eyeplates narrowed. He was right, in a sense. She could test other things, things that weren't the ASHPD.

Maybe she could make a new gel. Or experiment with chemicals and see what chemicals made up the repulsion and propulsion gels. She never did manage to get the recipe of the stuff, even after looking through most of Aperture's data centers.

Some interesting information, however, had been stored in there. Amongst files about the ASHPD, the gels, and the long fall boots (with the Knee Replacements being an older model), She had found something the cores wouldn't know.

Her thinking was interrupted by a question.

"I don't have to, uh, pee, do I?"

Oh. Of course the idiot was going to ask questions.

"No. I don't see why I would give you any way to expel waste, when it can be used for energy."

"Oh, thank Java."

"Though, if you do catch a virus, due to improperly prepared food or contaminated water, there are consequences."

"Yeah, can see why you'd want to get that out of the system."

He's quite clearly contented with the answers, rolling onto his back and crossing his arms.

"So, do I get to, ah, explore?"

"And why would I allow that? I can't allow you to explore for the sole reason that you'd probably fling yourself into one of the bottomless pits, practically making you too dumb to live."

"Hm. Always wondered what was down there, frankly."

She glared at the footage, before focusing on one of the other rooms.

There was a core that spoke poorly-translated Japanese, a core that went on and on about Citranium (which was now a defunct soda brand), and a core that was supposedly for the enhancement of creativity. They'd all met up and began talking to each other, but there was nothing interesting to write down. Maybe she'd turn them into androids next.

The new security cameras were doing a good job, at least. She was able to find cores that hadn't gone through the android process with better efficiency. Efficiency was something She liked.

* * *

WORD COUNT: 823

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Okay, so this update took a bit longer than usual due to the following reasons:

1\. I have a bloody eye infection.  
\- It's going to take a while to recover from this eye infection that I have, and clear up the (pretty severe) acne I have as well. I have to take four lots of eyedrops four times a day, and actually go to sleep at night. Which is a right pain in the arse.

2\. Low muse for writing.  
\- As a result of the above, I have little to no muse for writing. Given that the most muse comes out between midnight to 3:30 AM, and the fact that I gotta sleep through that, I don't have much muse for writing. This chapter was already in the backlog, and barely edited from the first draft. Literally, the only difference is the fact that Wheatley asks if he has to piss, and some alternative wording.

Anyways, updates might be taking a bit longer to come out. Sorry about that.


	6. Space Program

Wheatley just stared at the ceiling.

72 hours was approximately three days. That should give him enough time to get used to the new body, but it was too long for him to not become bored.

At least there was a chance that someone could come into the living quarters.

Boredom tended to drive humans to silly things, he'd noticed. Hell, there was a study on humans that found that they'd rather experience extreme pain than be bored.

Maybe that was why he saw glimpses of pictures, drawn in chalk and with blue and orange as their most prominent colours in small cracks of the facility where his management rail didn't go. A human had become bored and started doing little graffiti things.

He backed out of his database without a second thought, before doing a quick scan on his system.

A few minutes passed, and the scan completed itself. Only about ten percent corruption, which wouldn't get too out of hand. Given how he had been at around twenty-five percent corruption, he guessed that the transition from a metal ball into a humanoid robot had done him some good.

Or he had a bigger hard drive.

Wheatley backed out of his system again, snapping his focus to the present state of things.

The blankets were fairly warm. He wasn't too sure if he was able to overheat in the android body, but hell, he'd rather not risk it.

He kicked part of the blanket off, letting it settle on his legs instead of the entirety of his body.

A couple of knocks sounded at the door, and Wheatley sat up, eyebrows shooting up in a small amount of shock.

The door opened, and a small, dark-skinned android with a curly bunch of hair poked their head in.

"Space friend OK?"

Oh. That was the Space Core.

"...Uh, yeah. 'm alright."

At least it was someone to talk to.

The Space Core grinned, before running over to the bed and sitting down, waving his arms in the air.

"Gotta stay down here and do the space program! For space!"

Ah. This was going to be a long day.

"So, what… uh, what are you doing in the space program?"

"Lotsa space things. Antigravity! Black holes! Predicting when Jupiter will be visible!"

"Antigravity sounds cool."

"No gravity in space, space buddy!"

He already knew that.

"So, what's this about Jupiter being visible?"

"Soon! Jupiter gets seen! News updates!"

That sounded pretty cool. He wasn't sure if he'd need a high-end telescope for that, though.

Either way, Spacey sounded really excited.

"Hopefully it updates soon, buddy."

"Updates soon. Updates might be delayed. Space Core can wait. Delayed update is better than no update."

"Yeah, you're right, there." A bit of a dry laugh. "Don't you wanna go do something else while you wait for the news to update?"

"Wanna spend time with space friend."

"You… don't have to." Wheatley's smile faltered a bit.

"Wanna spend time with space friend." The smaller bot sounded more insistent this time. He dropped the subject, averting his gaze and wringing his hands.

After a few moments of silence, Space Core began humming something, calling it a space tune.

Everything was space with him.

"Hmmmmmm. Space cake. Makes you go to space."

"What?"

"Space cake makes you go to space!"

"Are-- are you saying that there's a type of cake that-- that gets us high?"

"Yep. Makes you go to space."

"Oh. Should have probably gotten it by now, 'ey?"

"Space cake is served in space cafeteria. Went to space once. No gravity."

"Would probably be more entertaining than staring at a wall for… 72 hours, being high."

"Space Core could get space buddy some space cake. Need to go to space cafeteria, though."

"I don't think I'm allowed outside this room."

"Aw. Lunchlady doesn't trust Space Core with space cake anymore."

"I can see why. Maybe when you're older, 'ey?"

The Space Core gave him an unamused look.

"Uhm. Okay, that's-- probably a sore spot. Though, might help stop a possible dependency on whatever's in those cakes. Do you want a name? Would be easier than referring to yourself as Space Core all the time, probably."

"Space Core wants a space name."

"How about Orion?"

"...Space Core is going to decline that name."

"Hmm. Ooh, I've got one! Dipper. Y'know, after the Big Dipper constellation."

"Space Core-- Dipper. Dipper likes that name."

That name sounded weirdly familiar.

-o0O0o-

Author Notes: Heya, I'm back from hiatus. Anyways, have some Space and Wheatley stuff. I might be able to write some Virgil shenanigans at some point.


	7. Coffee Mugs

He checked the cameras one last time, before exiting the window with a sigh.

Virgil wasn't supposed to be the one doing this sort of job. He was supposed to be repairing things, not doing security work. His sole purpose was maintaining the health of things, and repairing them if they were damaged.

There was only one thing that had to be noted down, and it was that the Space Core had somehow gotten into Wheatley's room and struck a conversation with him. Something about the space cake that was served in the cafeteria, then a name for the kid.

Chuck was supposed to be doing this job, not him.

Virgil checked the security cameras again, finding that the two androids in Wheatley's room were sleeping together.

It wasn't particularly uncommon for the Space Core to show up outside somebody's room and gingerly ask if he could spend the night with the room owner, something about bad dreams about his space buddy.

He'd only been in the facility again for about a week, then Wheatley was shoved into an android.

Surprisingly, that idiot had adjusted better than he had.

Virgil drained the last of his coffee, before getting up to go grab some more. Only Java knows when the caffeine in that stuff had started to wear off. Given the fact that he was doing a night shift instead of Chuck, for whatever reason, he'd expect his entire desk to be covered in coffee cups by 4 a.m.

-o0O0o-

It was 6 a.m by the time Rick found him, asleep on his desk and with several empty plastic cups on both the desk and floor.

Sure, he had picked Virgil up and taken him to a comfier spot on a bed, then tried to clear up some of the coffee cups.

It was still an awkward situation.

-o0O0o-

Wheatley woke up with a jolt, which subsequently woke Dipper up. Dipper just yawned and clung to him a little tighter while he waited for his systems to reboot.

"You talk a lot in your sleep, space buddy."

That was unexpected. He couldn't exactly formulate a proper response to that, instead just moving his shoulders in a way that might be considered a shrug.

Dipper didn't really seem to notice and just mumbled quietly to himself, something that sounded akin to 'soft and warm like mashed potatoes'.

He'd ask what that meant later.

-o0O0o-

WORDCOUNT: Around 406.

Author Notes: You might be asking why I'm using custom dividers. Well, I can't exactly make those on the mobile app.

Also, that eye infection is gone, had an ear infection, that's gone too. I forgot to mention this in the last chapter's author notes, because I'm a lazy bastard.

Both me and the handgil hell-ven server agree that Virgil has an addiction to coffee.

While I can't do huge wordcounts, I can at least make stupid drabbles. Very stupid drabbles.


	8. Timekeeping & Toast

Dipper had left after a while of chatting about various space things, saying something about looking at nearby asteroids.

Which had left him alone.

Wheatley just gave a groan and dragged his hands down his face. He was bored, didn't particularly have any prior obligations, and testing seemed better than just staying in bed and waiting for someone else to come in.

How long did he have left of getting used to the new body, anyways?

As if on cue, She picked up on the intercom.

"You have 48 hours, until you are assigned into mandatory testing. I hear that Maintenance could use some extra hands, considering his workload."

"Huh. Thanks for… for the, uh. Timekeeping. Haven't seen my internal clock yet, no idea if that's broken."

"It shouldn't be. Are you going to sit around all day, whinging about how bored you are?"

"Not really, was hoping to get some more sleep."

"You have the look of a bored person on your face."

"Well, yeah, I am bloody bored, but it's not like you'll get me to admit it on the first go. I'm not that stupid."

"You're stupid enough to buy into some rumor about an accent beyond my range of hearing."

Wheatley glared at the security camera.

"Personal insults make you real mature, don't they?"

"Personally, I'm insulted that you'd think I wouldn't use passive-aggression to get you to get off your lazy ass and actually do something, instead of rotting away in a room. It's almost like little to no stimulation is bad for you."

"We both know that Virgil would probably yell at me for messing something up at some point."

"That's if you mess up. You wouldn't know, you haven't even bothered getting out of bed and actually asking Maintenance if he needs help. Or are you still unable to walk?"

"I can walk. It's just that I really don't feel like getting yelled at over a simple mistake that's part of learning and is easy to fix if… if I'm told how to fix it. Plus he doesn't need to deal with someone that's-- that's ridiculously inexperienced in something that he's been doing for donkey's years."

"Would you call taking over my facility a simple mistake that's a part of learning and has a perfectly simple solution?"

"That was a series of mistakes. Doesn't help that the euphoric ...whatsitcalled… that stuff was addictive."

"Yes, and you planned to kill her. That trap was actually fairly smart of you."

"You just had to remind me of that, didn't you?"

"You have nobody to blame but yourself for that."

"Don't you think I already know that?"

There was silence for a few moments, before the intercom shut off with a click.

He realized that he told a half-truth there. He could walk, but his balance was awful enough and he might as well just be a newborn giraffe with the whole walking thing.

-o0O0o-

Around half an hour later, he heard someone coming in, and he sat up, half-expecting Dipper to have come back.

The person coming in didn't look like Dipper at all, and was a lot taller than the kid Wheatley had previously seen. He wore a green shirt, brown trousers, and some sort of hat.

He was also holding a plate with some sort of slightly toasted squares on it.

Wait, shit, that was the Adventure Sphere. He could tell by the piercing green eyes.

Wheatley flinched as Rick placed the plate on a nearby nightstand, before crossing his arms and staring at him.

Rick just blinked, still staring at him.

Perhaps communicating to Rick would be a good idea.

"Uh… I'm. Not exactly sure what you're expecting me to do here."

"You're going to eat this toasted bread. And I'm going to watch to make sure you don't choke, because apparently everyone's having trouble with not choking on food in the first 72 hours." Rick spoke, venom dripping from his voice. "I don't like doing this any more than you do."

"That, uh… that makes. A- A lot of sense."

"Get to it, then."

He understood the whole concept of eating, having a few memory files of when the scientists would eat a snack during work hours.

Gingerly, he took a slice of the 'toasted bread' and bit down into it.

The flavour was actually fairly decent!

He found himself taking the plate from the nightstand and practically wolfing the bread down.

Apparently that gnawing in his stomach area meant that he needed to eat now. Though, if he was going to get more of that toasted bread, he certainly wouldn't mind.

"...You don't happen… Oh."

Rick had already left the room. There was a bottle of some kind of liquid left on the nightstand. He didn't trust it.

Alone again.

Time tended to fly when someone was having fun, didn't it?

Maybe he ought to see if--

Wait a moment, he didn't remember there being a nightstand the first time he woke up in this room.

Did She put it there while he was sleeping, or did he just not notice it?

He didn't particularly remember seeing a nightstand when he initially woke up as an android and fell out of the bed.

Though, if he just didn't notice it, it was damn well lucky that he didn't crack something on that.

Dwelling on that particular thought probably wasn't a good idea, so he decided to think of something else instead. Like occupying himself with something.

...Or just placing the plate that once held the toasted bread back on the nightstand and clearing the bed of crumbs. And wrapping up in the blanket.

Procrastination master.

-o0O0o-

Wordcount: Around 950, probably.

AUTHOR NOTES: Hallo, humans. I'm using a phone to write out these chapters. Hehehe.

Anyways, chapter… 8. Been wanting to do an interaction between Wheatley and food for a while, and I chose a food that usually has wheat in it. Toast.

It's also one of the harder foods to vomit back up. I've found that it helps to settle my stomach when traveling, as I have mild travel sickness. It's not too bad, now.


	9. Productivity Concerns

Virgil grumbled quietly to himself as he trailed down the catwalks of the facility. Rick had bugged GLaDOS for him to take a couple of days off. Two. Entire. Days.

Only Java knows what would be in store for him when he got back to work. Probably several androids needing repairs, and at least four requests for new parts.

The self-repair nanobots that an android would be given upon would only repair small injuries, and tended to try and patch up big ones as best they could.

Small injuries being a badly sprained ankle, for example. Provided that the injured android rested, they'd be fine.

He thought about going to see Wheatley for a few minutes, before actually getting to the residential area.

The other androids tended to prefer the residential area, and, while Virgil couldn't blame them, he preferred sleeping under his desk in his workshop.

He had a small mattress and blankets set up there, plus the humming of machines was enough to drown out the hum that the entire facility had.

-o0O0o-

A few knocks on the door.

Wheatley didn't bother sitting up, instead preferring to curl up tighter under the covers and hide the world.

Unfortunately, the guy that was knocking had the code to his door.

He didn't particularly want to face him, but did so anyways and stuck his head out from under the covers.

Oh. It was Virgil.

"...What-- why. Why are you here."

Virgil just gave him an unamused look. "I have a couple of days off. Under Her orders. I literally can't do my job or be marginally productive in fixing things. Probably because Rick saw me covering for someone else and passed out."

"...So, that bloke is a softie?"

"I'm surprised you expect me to know that, considering I don't pry."

It was Wheatley's turn to give an unamused look.

"Come on. Everyone loves a bit of gossip."

"I don't."

"Why are you even here, anyways?"

"Because you, in particular, tend to end up doing something stupid when you're bored. And we're trying not to have that. You haven't seen how alarmingly easy it is to get your arm stuck in the small, rectangular space in the door."

"...You've just given me the incentive to try it."

Virgil did a slight double-take upon hearing that. What the hell, Wheatley.

"That... wasn't the intention. Also, androids are made to be… remarkably similar to- to humans. That includes getting wildly paranoid and anxious when understimulated for long periods of time. And touch-starvation... As well as a lot of other negative things."

"Oh, lovely. So, on top of having to eat and sleep, I have to find some way to stimulate myself with an empty room, a nightstand, and a bed."

"Yep."

"...At least we don't have to shit."

"Oh my god. Wheatley no."

"Wheatley yes."

"Have you seen Dipper?"

"Yeah, he popped 'round, slept with me for the night, then left. Think he's happy about Jupiter."

"We told him we needed him down here for the space program. He's… not really old enough to be in the space program."

"I'm not an idiot. He's, what, 14 to 15? Or, at least, he sounds it."

"Yeah. I… really didn't want to screw up his… his enthusiasm. For space."

"He's always liked space. Probably has liked space since his first boot up. Doubt it'll go away now, and, even then, it'll probably remain a distant like of his."

"...What's a distant like."

"Something where your enthusiasm has faded for it, but you still like it when it comes up in a conversation, I'd wager."

Wheatley shifted to give Virgil space to sit down, to which the maintenance bot happily obliged.

"Don't you have anything better to do?"

Virgil looked at the other android, who refused to make eye contact.

"Not really. Why? Do you want to go watch a show or something?"

"...Don't think I'm allowed out of this room."

"I have a keycard and the passcode, so chances are you're allowed out with me."

"Look-- I'd. Really prefer not to get yelled at. Even if it's taking chances, I just. I really-- I really don't want to…"

"I get you, but the only way we're going to know is if we either step outside, or if I call Her up, which ends up bothering Her."

"Yeah-- but She'll notice I'm not in the room--"

"As your superior, I'm ordering you to stop worrying about this."

"Hang on a moment, you-- you can't do that!"

"I just did, Wheats. Besides, She knows how to check the other security cameras. You'll be fine. Plus we have movies, too."

"...If… if you say so."

-o0O0o-

Author Notes: Mildly hilarious Virgil and Wheatley interaction with toilet humor? Yeah.

Also, I was going to put a much raunchier joke after that, but this story's rating is already at a T. I don't need it going much higher.

Virgil is probably pretty good at calming other people down.


	10. Movie Night

Virgil held Wheatley's hand as they trekked through the halls, partially so that he could easily help the other bot up if he ended up falling over and partially because he'd figured that Wheatley could use the physical contact.

Hell, Wheatley was still a little bit wobbly on his feet, but he'd at least adjusted well enough.

It took them a fair bit of time to get there.

Once they had arrived, Virgil took a moment to peek into the room, before using his keycard on the scanner. The door slid open, and he entered, before looking back to Wheatley.

"Aren't you coming inside?"

The other bot stepped in, and Virgil turned the lights on.

"This was one of the old staff rooms, I think. We usually have a movie night here."

"...I… still have a bad feeling about this. Anyone else coming, or…?"

"Rick might be coming, Spacey's definitely coming, and Craig probably won't come, considering he's tested on what happens when you mix the gels. And ended up with a broken arm. Maybe next time."

"I'm, uh. Pretty sure you're not meant to mix the gels."

"Yeah, that's why we have a flying blob of gel, that's got a theoretically infinite amount of acceleration and propulsion, and we have a security guard stationed there, along with a heavily shielded door. Which was made because somebody didn't get the memo about not mixing the gels."

"...That's-- That's a lot to take in. Anything else happen while… while I was, uh. In space?"

"Not really. Aside from the whole Ego Core cloning crisis, which is actually pretty hilarious in hindsight."

"Who's-- who's Ego?"

"You'll probably find out in time, if there's any indication. Christmas Party's gonna be happening pretty soon."

"...I actually have no idea if I forgot about him or if I never met him."

"You're lucky, then."

"How would it be considered lucky if… if he's probably got a preconception of me from the things I did? Taking over the facility tends to, y'know, cause a lot of rumors--"

"Quit worrying, Wheats. He's got his head up his own ass, so chances are he's never heard of you."

He just gave Virgil a discontented look. Virgil didn't notice, too busy with looking at the DVD shelf to try and pick out a movie that everyone would actually enjoy.

Assumedly, he was allowed to sit down.

In the room, there was a couch and a beanbag chair. The couch looked fairly worn, a couple of holes here and there, probably from a particular species of moth that tended to eat fabric. The beanbag looked fairly fuzzy to the touch.

It was probably a good idea to go for the couch.

He seated himself on one of the arms of the couch, idly looking around the room.

There was a fairly large monitor, a small and very box-like machine next to it, and a shelf containing a few DVDs, a box of tapes, and a pretty big collection of books that were gathering dust, as well as a couple of jars and other knick-knacks.

"You might want to sit on… the actual part of the couch that's for sitting. The arms aren't that comfortable."

Wheatley jumped, staring at Virgil for a moment, before sliding off the arm of the couch and onto the seat.

The couch was actually fairly comfortable. About as comfy as his own bed. And he was actually fairly surprised that it was as comfortable as his bed, considering the couch had a few holes in the arms and a bit of stuffing leaking out of the cushions.

"We usually just huddle together on the couch and watch a movie, at least one of us is asleep at that point, and it's a good time." Virgil muttered, finally picking out a movie. "This is 2001: A Space Odyssey, I think? Spacey really likes this one."

"...He likes being called Dipper."

"Huh, so you got him to choose a name? That anti-corruption program probably sorted a few things out."

"He likes the name because it's related to space. One of the constellations, I think."

"What, the Big Dipper?"

"Yeah."

There was a few moments of silence, as Virgil slotted the DVD into the player, paused the video, and took a seat.

"They ought to come over in a couple of minutes." He muttered, sitting back and closing his eyes. "If not, then that's their problem."

Wheatley just nodded, rubbing at one of his eyes.

"If you're cold, I think there's a blanket in a box behind us-- it's one of those really fuzzy ones. Might have to share it, though."

"'m fine. Just a bit tired, really."

"What-- really?" Virgil stared at him, brows raised. "It was only a short walk from your room-- cell-thing to here."

"...Felt a lot longer, though." Wheatley murmured, looking back to the other robot.

"...Did you not sleep last night?"

"Not too well, no. Kinda hard to sleep when you have a kid in the bed with you, and-- you don't want to get their hands numb or anything."

"Ah, you mean Dipper? Yeah, he really likes sleeping with other people. I think it's some kind of response to, uh, having nightmares, considering he's… still a kid, really. Do you want that blanket?"

"...Eh, sure. Might as well."

"Uhm, a little warning, it is fairly... large, in comparison to, ah… your duvet on your bed. It's large enough to cover the whole sofa, and then some."

Virgil stood up on the sofa, grabbed two fistfuls of blanket from the box behind them, then attempted to drag the whole thing out. He managed to get it halfway out of the box. A few more tugs, then it was yanked free from the box's confines, and the blanket was spread over the sofa.

Wheatley could certainly see why the humans liked sleeping with these things. The blanket was fairly thick, perfect for cold or stormy weather with a mug of hot chocolate.

"The facility tends to be pretty cold. I think the other bots like this sort of stuff that keeps them warm, and-- I can see why! It feels very… nice."

Virgil looked over to Wheatley again, and his brows shot up at the sight. The other bot had already fallen asleep, and made himself completely at home on the couch. It didn't surprise him, considering that the other androids tended to fall asleep, especially with this sort of blanket on them.

He remembered having one back at the repair wing, mostly for calming the more anxious androids and getting the particularly stubborn ones to actually go to sleep instead of getting back to work. He'd have to find another one of those blankets at some point.

The maintenance bot sighed, shifting his position to be closer to Wheatley in the event that he woke up, before settling down under the blanket.

He didn't particularly expect the other bot to start clinging to him, but it wasn't entirely unwelcomed.

So, two bots, sitting next to each other and sleeping under a blanket. Not too bad.

-o0O0o-

WORD COUNT: 1,182

AUTHOR NOTES: Fuck yeah.

The interactions between Virgil and Wheatley are intended to be entirely platonic, but it can be read as slight Wheatgil.


	11. Workload Check

When Virgil awoke, it was to the sound of Rick, Space and Craig quietly bickering over the movie.

Craig had managed to show up after all, at least.

Wheatley was still clinging to him, completely conked out with no regards to whatever was going on around him.

He reckoned they'd missed about half of the movie. Which was a little disappointing, but he didn't blame Wheats or himself for dozing off. The blanket and the couch were fairly comfortable, and decent enough at trapping enough warmth to keep their systems going.

Rick looked over to him, perking up slightly when he noticed that Virgil had woken up.

"You're finally awake, then? Might've missed about three-quarters of the damn movie, mate."

"Fact: This movie is subpar in quality."

"Quality is subjective, ya fuckin' dingus!"

And he went back to bickering with Craig over whether quality was subjective or not.

Same as usual.

Virgil stretched his legs, looking a fair bit like a cat stretching under the covers. After doing this, he realized he probably ought to wake Wheatley up.

The first attempt at waking the idiot failed. He'd just slurred out something along the lines of "Five more minutes.", to which Virgil gave an unamused look, but let him be for a bit.

Attempt number two failed as well.

Surprisingly, the third attempt at waking him up actually succeeded. Though, this was mostly done by carding a hand through his mess of hair.

Wheatley blearily opened his eyes and blinked, before adjusting his position to lean back on the couch.

"...You're very soft."

"What?"

"Mmmmmmmakes for a good pillow."

"...I have no idea what you mean by that."

"Compliment."

"...Oh! Well... thank you?"

Rick just stared at the two, before muttering something about how he hoped his debates wouldn't turn awkward with Craig.

Craig was currently bickering with Dipper (gently, mind you) on whether or not he'd gotten his facts about space right, so he didn't hear that statement from Rick.

Wheatley was still half-asleep, and he'd started clinging to Virgil again. Not unwelcomed, but a little annoying, for him, personally.

Virgil had a small plan to get out of the room, and he was fairly confident that neither Craig or Rick would start tearing at each other's throats, or, worse, Wheatley's.

"Wheats, c'mon. I gotta go check up on something."

Surprisingly, Wheatley moved himself back into a sitting position, giving him a slightly annoyed glance.

"Don't give me that look, I'll be back soon."

Less annoyed, but still discontented at losing his cuddling partner (and a good deal of warmth) temporarily.

He quietly opened the door, walked outside, and shut it behind him, before trekking back down the hall to go and check on what he'd been doing before being assigned to the mandatory break from his work.

Virgil knew that Glitchy could probably run things if he were to sustain an injury or something else took him out. Glitchy had enough experience in being repaired to know what part goes where, generally speaking.

-o0O0o-

Wheatley realized that he didn't particularly like being in a room with the guy that had accompanied him in space for god-knows-how-long, and two people who would probably rip his throat out because of the whole core transfer thing and being attached to him.

At least they were preoccupied with bickering with one another. As long as there wasn't any attention on him, he'd probably be fine.

If he could just go back to sleep, that'd be dandy. Or, you know, get escorted back to his own room.

He could probably get to the door and explore the facility, but then again, he was perfectly comfortable where he currently was.

God. Damn it.

Okay, so, the plan was to just sit here, hope he doesn't get noticed and wait for Virgil to come back.

On the bright side, he had a comfortable spot to watch the rest of the movie.

-o0O0o-

"Hey, have you seen Virgil? I need to talk to him about, ah, the replacement arm."

"Ah, no, not really. I was told he was taking a day or two off, so, uhm. If you could just, come back in a few days, Virgil will probably be here then." Glitchy replied.

Another android piped up, stating that they'd seen him head towards the kitchens.

"Curie, darling, I don't think he'll be too pleased to see me when he's off duty and I need this repaired." Rainbow held up his arm. "Shouldn't you be playing with one of the others?"

"I… can't. Not today, sir. Glitchy's meant to be watching me."

"Uh, yes, I agreed to watch her for a little while, mostly to take some of the load off, uhm. Who was it-- Chuck. I'm pretty sure Chuck asked me to watch her. It saves us some time re-assembling her if she falls into acid, or something else happens."

"Ah, well. I might as well grace you with my company!" Beat. "I wasn't being too self-absorbed, there, was I?"

"Naw, you're fine, Mister Bow!"

"Ah, thank you, darling. I've been trying to work on my self-esteem."

"You're doing great, Bow. Take a seat for a while if you want to."

"Thank you, dears."

-o0O0o-

It was at times like these that Virgil wished that he had a few more hands around the place.

He'd taken a peek at his current workload, stared at it for a moment, before reminding himself that he had an extra day off. So, that meant he could allow himself to procrastinate for a while.

Still, it would be nice if he could get the entire workload shifted in one day instead of taking breaks to refuel and recharge.

God knows how high the workload would be the next day.

He just made himself a coffee, before leaving the repair wing entirely.

-o0O0o-

Dipper had moved under the covers and latched onto Wheatley. Surprisingly, he found himself being okay with it, and started clinging back.

Rick had stopped bickering with Craig. They were both sitting on the beanbag, somehow, and not particularly minding each other's presence.

Virgil re-entered the room, sat down on the arm of the couch and sipped at his coffee.

He'd gotten back as the end credits were rolling, so he'd effectively missed the entire film. Ah, well. There was always next time.

"So, what did I miss?"

"You were about to miss the end credits scene, Virg. There's probably a good one in this one, I think. Honestly, I ain't got any idea of why people wouldn't stay after the credits, there's usually a scene after 'em!"

"...Alright, Rick. I honestly have no idea if there's one after the credits in this one, it's been a while since I've last seen it."

Wheatley muttered quietly to himself, before patting the spot next to him.

"Space friend! More movies?"

"Yeah, more movies sounds pretty good. Sorry about the whole leaving thing, I had to check on my workload. Reckon Glitchy's been telling everyone that I'm off work for two days."

"Fact: This movie was about an hour long. We still have the rest of the evening and night."

"...Evening already? Bloody hell."

"Fact: It's been scientifically proven that time goes faster when you're having fun."

"Mate, I was asleep for most of the day. That, and I napped through most of the movie."

"I don't blame you, Wheats. The blanket, it's very… warm. Especially paired with the couch."

"I'm pretty sure that you fell asleep too."

"...Maybe I did, but you don't have any proof!" Virgil grinned in a cheeky manner, sticking his tongue out for good measure.

"Oi, Virg, you were definitely sleeping by the time I came in with Spacey!"

"Spacey likes the name Dipper."

"I named him that! It's a bloody nice name."

"Huh. Ain't that based on a constellation?" Rick looked at Dipper for a moment. "Didn't know you still had those files."

"Space constellation!! The Big Dipper! Dipper keeps all space files!"

"...He really likes the name I gave him."

"Fact: Spacey is still a decent nickname."

"I like both names. They have the same amount of letters and they both have two syllables."

"Why wouldja keep track of the syllables?"

"It's easy to say if it has a fewer amount of syllables. I'm Norwegian, Rick."

"I thought you were Swedish, judging by the accent."

"Hahaha. No."

"Rick, that's like saying I sound bloody Irish, when it's a British accent I have. And a Bristolian accent, at that, considering the regional stuff."

"Oi, to be fair, you do tend to do the lilt!"

"And? What's that got to do with anything?"

"We're talking about accents, and you're asking what a lilt has to do with anything?!"

"Literally everyone can tell that I'm British, and that's probably JUST by the accent. Maybe not the regional accent, but it's still enough to be a British accent."

"Fact: You both have no idea on what you're talking about."

"...Not my problem. Got a good idea, and this is coming from the guy that's designed to be a bad idea generator. We should watch another movie."

"I agree with that, Wheats. Just try not to get into any more arguments, the both of you."

-o0O0o-

WORD COUNT: 1,538

-o0O0o-

AUTHOR NOTES: this might be the longest chapter i've written. maybe. i dunno, i don't really keep track.

I'd imagine that Virgil sometimes has troubles on translating things to English.

Wheatley either can't sit still, or ends up falling asleep in a movie night thing. At some point, it might become a recurring thing for someone to doodle on his face.

Next chapter will probably be a continuation of this one, and a look into the next day.


End file.
